Voicemails

The traditional voicemail, like so many other things that existed before smart-phones, no longer serves the purpose it was created for. Cell-phones [and especially smart ones] make everyone available every second of the day [Dad's favorite thing about them]. If you can't talk, you can probably text. And if you can't text or talk, then any message -- whether it be voice or text or e-mail or hey-tell -- is going to reach you at the same time, with the order most likely being: text first, voicemail second, e-mail third. In short, the voicemail could disappear forever and the world would miss it for a while because you couldn't sing happy birthday to your friends or listen to somebody's voice you hadn't talked to in a while. But then, the world would be fine. 

For some, this apparent uselessness makes the voicemail even more valuable. Since nobody leaves voicemails anymore, you assume that when someone does, they have something important to say. Something that can't wait for a return call. 

Oh, if that were only the case.

Who leaves a 73 second voicemail? My brother.

Entire voicemail left on 1/1/12:

 "Hey bro, happy new year bro, uh, (starts british accent): the best to you and your family on this delicious new year (ends british accent)... uh, Mauro and I are going to go grab breakfast and then swing by the casa, and get the walleta, uh, beforehand, and honestly dude... that, is all I've really got to say to you this morning... I really enjoyed last night a lot, man... After we left, we kinda hung around, kinda lurking around outside for a little bit, uh, talking about different things as you were getting ready for bed, and, watching, sniffing the air, waiting, hoping that things would happen... that's it man. (starts british accent) We will see you shortly, m'boy."

Entire voicemail left on 12/27/11: 

"HEY PAL! HEY MAN, DON'T WORRY ABOUT NOT GETTING MY PHONE CALL. YOU KNOW, THAT'S WHAT YOU HAVE VOICEMAIL FOR. I GOT IT, TOO MAN. (tone slightly lowers) Hey, not a problem, bro. Seriously. You know what though? If you do this one more f*cking time, if you pull this stunt one more goddamn time... Do it man. Let it go through to voicemail. See what the f*ck happens. I'll take it out on you and your f*cking voicemail... You will not-- neither of you will know what the f*ck hit you. You f*cking hear me?... Say something b*tch... Bring it b*tch, come on!.. *skipping ahead 10 seconds for decency reasons.... Why don't you or your voicemail take ownership of this??... I mean, f*cking seriously man... I mean, I don't know what's gonna have to happen for this sh*t to change...But something... Hey man, you know what? Put it on the goals for 2012. Or scratch that, 2013, man. Why don't you be bothered to think about someone else? How does that sound?... F*cking unbel-- You're playing with house money here, man. That's what you're doing, man. Walk up to the craps table. "Oh, I'm gonna bet on the come, no no, let's play with the house on this one. Uh-oh. Seven. No. Eleven." Reset the board, man... Reset the board. You f*cking animal... This, ugh.... Just ridiculous."

Excerpt of voicemail left on 12/26/11: 

"Hey man, not going to apologize for calling you. I know you want that... Not gonna happen. So rule it out... Ok? I decided to call you, you decided not to answer. Not going to apologize. Never do. Never have. Never will... That said man.... Sorry for calling.... I know it's not what you wanted right now, man. Not comfy.."

Entire voicemail left on 12/14/11: (after having discovered the mute button. The ------ indicates complete, abrupt silence.)

"Hey man, I just didn't know what ------ tried to give you a phone call and see ------ it's 45 degrees I guess, not, well, uh, inside it's a litt ------ George Washington, I guess.... Abraham Lincoln... Thomas Jefferson... Don ------- Some of my favorite things in the world, really. And I really appreciate you taking the time to hear me out. And if nothing else, the most important thing I want to say is that you know, you ------ Thank you. Thank you. It just goes without saying. Ummmm.  And I'm never gonna say it again, man. Never gonna say it again. If I do, I'm just going to be that guy who's ne ------ I mean, suck this, f*ck this, b*tch that. Um, so. That's all man. Think I got a lot done. Said a lot of good things. And, (starts british accent) that's it m'boy."

Entire voicemail left on 11/29/11:

"What's up you fat f*ck? Um, just calling you back man. See you."

Excerpt of voicemail left on 11/11/11 (look at those power numbers, Mom!):

"....Any-whoo... Hope you have a really fun night man. I really do. Uh, it's just one of those things that, I know I say it every single time, laughs, every time we're on the phone: "hey man, have a good time, enjoy this, enjoy that, have fun with life," but uh, I really mean it... Really really do. It's uh, not every day I get to say that. I know I don't say that very much... I know I say it all the time... But uh, I don't say it very often. So..."

Entire voicemail left on 10/27/11:

"Hey man, it's just me. Um. I was either going to leave you a message or send you a gmail, or... I dunno, I mean, uh... 'Cause I've got-- I think you have gmail too. I know Dad does. I definitely have it. So... Sometimes it makes it easier. Just even out of habit, I'll just be like: "blank-blank-blank whatever at gmail" just out of habit. Which is-- Pumping the brakes sometimes, actually. 'Cause not everyone has it... It used to be that you had to get an invitation to gmail. I think I still have a bunch of invitations left. I haven't used 'em. I mean, gonna hang on to them, probably. Uh...So I don't know if you're around to chat or g-chat on gmail. Umm... What your connection, internet connection's like, if you got-- what your website -- IP, sort of, what that's -- cause I, cause I'm around. I dunno...Probably get on there in a bit and fire off a few more gmails. Uh, when I get done. So. Interrupt me if you want man. Not a big deal. Um. I'm on there for a while. In fact it'll sign me out when I'm on there. Built-in security. (scoffing) But it's not that tight. Anyway man, so."

Entire voicemail left on 10/12/11:

"Hey asshole. Um...I'm just doing exactly what your voicemail's telling me to do, man: "leave a message". Just following orders, man. Gosh, I wonder what it would be like if you told me to jump off a cliff. You think I'd do it? Think I'd just fall in line? Just walk right off a f*cking cliff 'cause your voicemail tells me to? Well I'm not going to man. Not the way I operate. So if I were you, I'd change your f*cking tone in your voicemail. Maybe be a little more considerate of other people's time. And stop having your voicemail do all your f*cking dirty work. Why don't you have the balls to say it-- Say that to my face man! Tell me to leave a f*cking message to my face.... But instead, NO! Just tell your voicemail to do that. Outsource all your f*cking problems... I mean, I don't know what you think this is, but this is just a great example of the entitlement state that we live in, man. Keeps growing and growing and growing, doesn't it? We all want more. Gimme gimme gimme, you f*ggot."

Start of voicemail left on 10/2/11:

"Hey man, I always love hearing your voicemail. Something so sweet about that voice. So goddamn sweet..."

Voicemail left on 9/27/11:

"Hey man, um, I think I've got the wrong number. But I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that I don't...Um. Anyway. Hey man, I know we haven't spoken in a while. Just checking in, see how you, your family was doing. All that kind of stuff. Change of email address. Anything. Not sure if you have, haven't. Or... You know. E-mail me. Whatever you want to do. I've got gmail. So. I don't know if you have that or not. But I do. So. Yeah. So. Um. Yeah."


-----------------------------

Checks, like voicemails are also becoming increasingly irrelevant, though smart-phones have little if anything to do with the decline of the check. Credit and debit cards can buy anything, and cash is still as powerful as it always has been. It seems only old women in front of you at the grocery store still use checks, and only landlords make you pay in them. 

Anyways, Joe has seized on this -- the check and its uselessness -- as another outlet for his jokes. Each month, he writes me a check for his portion of the rent, and then I take it to the bank, deposit the check, and then write our landlord a check for the rent each month. 

This was last month's check:

Things you should know:

1) Rent is $533

2) Last month, the check was for $532.99

3) The "For" section. The $532.99 one wasn't much more sophisticated.

4) He routinely asks how depositing my check went, because he knows that the teller is told to look at the "for" portion of a check.

5) For christmas, he gave me money for a new jacket all in $1 bills. 

Where does he get it from?

Entire voicemail left by Dad on 1/24/12:

"Hey there, I guess I probably got you in the shower again. Um, which I think is the equivalent of hitting two holes-in-one on the same course. Anyway, I'm glad to know that your personal hygiene is still a priority, um, but that is assuming I did actually get you in the shower and not doing something personally unhygienic.  And if I had to-- Hold on. I think you're calling on the other line. We'll find out, uh, what exactly you were doing, um shortly."

I'm surrounded by, and unfortunately blood-related to, idiots.